Tears Of A Clown
by nellabean
Summary: "It was all too much for Gingka. Perhaps Masamune's upbeat, obnoxious front was merely a ruse. Was he using his jokes as a way to mask the tears that he struggled to hold inside each second of each day? Was his furious ego simply a disguise, created to hide the guilt and self-hatred he felt? Did he play a clown, just to mislead people into believing that he wasn't dying inside?"


**Greetings from the land of the sleep deprived! This is a realm where the residents survive on caffeine, a reluctance to sleep, and the only light we see is the eye-burning glow of the computer screen or occasionally, the fridge light. We also find the strangest things hilarious and enjoy sticking our fingers in plastic fans for entertainment. Here, well, our minds do some crazy things. And often, strange one-shots are birthed from those minds. **

**It's 4:02 am, I can't sleep, and I think I'm going to start hallucinating from the amount of coffee I've swallowed. Anyway, this is a one-shot about Masamune. Now, some of the details may be a bit off because it's been forever since I've watched the episodes in this time frame, but really, what I'm trying to imply is that Masamune goes much deeper than what he lets off. It's another sob story. I felt like writing something a little on the sad side. _Again!_**

* * *

Masamune lent with both hands gripping the railing as he stared down at the footpath below the hotel balcony through half-lidded eyes. It was three am in the morning, yet the streets were still as crowded as they had been in the middle of the day. It didn't surprise him. They don't call New York '_The City That Never Sleeps_' for nothing. And having lived in America for so long, he was used to the nocturnal buzzing of life at a time when all the rest of the world was dreaming.

Yet, the Striker wielder had come down with a terrible case of insomnia. He cursed himself, fully knowing that he would pay dearly for his lack of shut-eye the following day. He and the rest of Gan Gan Galaxy had a plan to board a plane in no less than four hours, and he hadn't slept a wink.

It wasn't as if he wasn't tired. Gosh no. Every muscle in his body screamed for rest, and his legs were almost collapsing under his weight. Yet his mind was tweaking, switching from one thought to another and he silently begged himself for a moments peace. He dwelled in dire realms of his deeper conscience that would never be touched upon during daylight hours.

Behind him, he heard someone open the sliding door and join him in his solitude. Before the intruder even spoke, he knew who it was. He had spent enough time with the person to be able to separate and identify their footsteps in a marathon.

"You're awake," the person stated. It was Gingka, displaying his never failing ability to shatter a moments tranquility in mere seconds.

"Can't sleep," Masamune murmured without moving as Gingka came to lean his back against the railing with his elbows propped up behind him.

"I just got up for a glass of water and noticed you were out here. Thought I'd come see what's up. So… what's up?"

"Nothing, nothing. I'm just thinking," he muttered, hardly moving his lips enough to make his words form any coherent sound.

Ginkga turned his head and lent back a bit so as to properly examine the face of the Blader whose home country he was currently standing in. Gingka noticed that Masamune's face was blank. Not a single expression line did show any sort of emotion, yet his tone of voice indicated some sort of disturbance lurking under his skin.

"Thinking about what?"

Masamune stiffened and lifted his head slightly as if to answer, but then focused on the pavement again. He let out a soft, wistful sigh and shrugged.

Searching his mind for an explanation as to why his friend might be acting so out of character, Gingka smiled, thinking that he had found the solution. "Is it the championships? It's that, isn't it? Hey, you don't need to worry, buddy. Like you always say, we'll be number one."

Then, something happened that made Gingka want to pinch himself to validate if he was dreaming or not. Masamune closed his eyes, let his chin touch the top of his collar in an expression of exhausted defeat and said, "I-I'm not number one…"

Now, the fact had truly sunk into Gingka's usually impenetrable brain; something was wrong with Masamune. "What was that?"

"I said I'm not number one. I don't even feel like anything right now. I feel so numb and I don't even know what to do about it." Masamune's tone of voice seemed to show that he was only half aware of Gingka's presence. It was more so that he was speaking his thoughts aloud to himself.

Gingka pushed himself off the railing and stepped closer to Masamune, watching the gentle city breeze ruffle his obsidian hair in it's pass. "Why on Earth would you say that? I can tell you lots of things that you are right now. You're strong. You're brave, you keep us all laughing through even the hardest of times. You're a great frien-"

"Don't say that," Masamune ordered, yet it sounded more like a plea.

"Don't say what?"

"Don't say I'm a great friend. I don't deserve that title. I've let down the people who believed in me the most. So what does that make me? It makes me a betrayer and a failure."

Now, Gingka's head was starting to hurt from the confusion. He felt like Masamune had just shoved a crossword under his nose and the clues were all jumbled up. "You're going to have to be a little more straightforward with me here."

Masamune used his arms to propel himself backwards from the rail and he rotated around to face Gingka, staring him in the face. His mahogany iris's filled with an emotion that looked so alien in them, for Gingka had never seen them look like that before. It was pain. Real, agonizing pain. Not the type that the brain signals to the body when one has taken a blow or even broken a limb. That sort of pain seemed like being tickled with a feather compared to the experience that would result in this expression. This was the type of hurt that dwelled inside a person, lurking in the shadowy, insidious parts of the heart. And at the sight of it, Gingka felt Masamune's pain too. He knew it all too well, for when he had believed that his father had been murdered, he'd seen that misery in himself.

"I'll give you straightforward, alright. I betrayed the two people in this world who thought they could rely on me. Toby, Zeo… Did you see him today? Did you see the look of betrayal on Zeo's face today?"

Ginka thought back to earlier that day when Zeo had lashed out at Masamune for joining the Japanese team and leaving him.

"I've been carrying that around with me on my conscience since the day I left them. I had good intentions. It wasn't like I abandoned them. I wanted to try to help afford Toby's treatment. But I guess I sort of got too wrapped up in the excitement and forgot where I came from. But today… today, he reminded me just what I've done. I've left them all for my own selfish purpose. And with Toby so sick and all… he befriended me when no one else would._ We_ were number one, not just me... How could I Gingka, how _could_ I?"

The redhead didn't know what to say. He refused to answer Masamune in the instant, pressing his lips shut tight and trying to recollect his thoughts before allowing any sort of sound get past them. He was afraid that he might say the wrong thing to Masamune while he was in this state. Afraid that he might touch a sensitive area.

Masamune continued as he let his voice fall to just above a whisper. "It's been eating at me for so long."

"But you, you always seemed so happy. Always making jokes."

He turned away again. "Yeah, well. Maybe I make so many jokes, and maybe I'm so mean to everyone because I'm trying to convince myself that it doesn't hurt, that the guilt isn't there. Maybe I'm trying to hide what I'm really feeling, and maybe I talk myself up so much so that I can trick myself into believing what I say. But today, Gingka… When I saw Zeo. I don't know if I can go on believing myself anymore."

He crossed his arms on the railing and buried his face into his shoulder. "I just feel like I'm in this big sand pit. I can't get out, and everytime I try to pull myself out of it, I slip and fall back down, then more sand pours in and it's starting to suffocate me! I keep trying to do the right thing and make everyone happy with me, but I manage to screw it up time after time."

Slowly, Gingka raised an arm to take hold of Masamune's shoulder and tug his body around to face him. Masamune showed no signs of protest, he simply went limp and allowed Gingka to move him. He stared at the ground for a while, before gloomily turning his somber gaze to Ginga's eyes. Gingka wasn't surprised to see tears gracing down his flustered cheeks.

The realization was all too much for Gingka. Perhaps Masamune's upbeat, obnoxious front was merely a ruse. Was he using his jokes as a way to mask the tears that he struggled to hold inside each second of each day? Was his furious ego simply a disguise, created to hide the guilt and self-hatred he felt? Did he play a clown, just to mislead people into believing that he wasn't dying inside?

His next words came slowly. "Gingka, what's wrong with me?"

And what Gingka hated the most about Masamune's question was that it was so genuine. He really wanted Gingka to tell him the answer.

Gingka sighed. "There's nothing wrong with you. I know you inside out, and I know that your heart is always in the right place. Don't forget that Toby's illness is affecting Zeo too, so he's acting out of hurt. And I sensed something... else wrong with that guy today. But besides that, I really think you're being too hard on yourself. Though, you should have told me how you felt a long time ago, I hate to think just how many nights you've spent awake torturing yourself with this. I wish I'd known sooner. "

With the hand that wasn't already resting on Masamune's shoulder, Gingka pointed to the night sky that hung above the lively city of New York. Masamune looked up, and the starfield reflected in his eyes. Millions upon millions of twinkling lights surrounding a metallic moon, like fireflies dancing around a white hot ember.

"Look, a shooting star…"

Masamune marveled as he watched the racing celestial body beam across the sky in a flash of light, until it finally left his range of vision.

"When I'm sad," Gingka continued, his voice soothing. "When everything seems bleak, and I start to think there's no way out, I just stare at the stars. And suddenly, I don't feel like my problems are as big as I make them out to be. You're your own worst enemy, you're thinking that you're all alone and that everyone hates you when that couldn't be further from the truth. You and I fight a lot, and sometimes you frustrate me so much that I want to strangle you... but sometimes I catch myself thinking about just how lucky I am to have a friend like you. If you hadn't tracked me down like you had... well, I just can't stand to think what my life would be like. Without your presence around to keep us all smiling, we would have given up the battle ages ago."

Suddenly, as if he could do no such other thing, Masamune flung himself at his teammate, wrapping his arms around him and pushing himself into a tight, brotherly hug.

"Thank you," he said though his voice was muffled by Gingka's jacket. "For everything. I don't feel like such a waste anymore…"

Gingka was startled at the gesture, but he soon relaxed and returned the embrace as he rubbed Masamune's back affectionately. "Everyone takes a fall now and then, Masamune. Mistakes make us human. And when you need help up, just reach out and take my hand. It'll always be there."

Minutes passed while the two just stood there hugging. Neither of them wanted to let go. They were both so at ease in their friendship. In such a short time, Masamune and Gingka had developed a strong, unbreakable bond and that bond had made itself evident tonight.

It was only when someone coughed at the sliding doors of the hotel room, did the two pull apart. Masamune wiped his tears away on his sleeve to see Yuu standing there, leaning on the door with a glass of milk and a perplexed look on his childish face.

Yu shook his head. "You're both weird," he said and he made a turn to go back to bed.

Masamune and Gingka put their hands in their pockets and drew their attention to the ground as if the tiled flooring had suddenly become the most fascinating thing in the world.

"We should try to get some sleep too, there's only a few hours left of the night and we need all the sleep we can get," Gingka suggested as he tried to take the focus off the previous events.

Masamune nodded.

"Hey, Masamune?"

"Yeah?"

"Who's number one?"

Masamune gushed, "Oh, c'mon!"

Gingka's grin grew wide. "Who's number one?"

Rolling his eyes and smiling for the first time that night, Masamune replied reluctantly, "I am."

"Louder. Who's number one?"

"I'm number one…."

"Louder!"

"I'm number one! I'm number one!" Masamune couldn't contain himself any longer. He jumped up and went marching inside screaming at the top of his lungs.

Banging came from the bedroom as someone knocked their fist into the wall. "Shut the hell up! It's four in the morning!" Tsubasa wasn't so placid and kind when he'd just been woken up, apparently.

Gingka stepped inside after Masamune, chuckling to himself. Before he descended back into slumber he turned once more to the stars, just to watch them.

"That's right, Masamune," he whispered to the dazzling lights above. "You'll always be number one."

And then he closed the door, flicked off the balcony light, and went to bed.

* * *

**Gee, why does it look like all my stories involve hurting the characters I love? BlackholeRaven1311 understands me, I'm sure. ;)**

**Thank you to anyone who's read this. I'm not exactly sure what I just wrote, but there it is. Keep in mind, my brain is currently running on caffeine and no sleep!**

**As you so surely already know by now, I love you all, my precious little porkchops. :)**

**-Jessie**


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